Can't Live Without 'Em
by Fluff.and.Rainbows
Summary: A.U. Matthew and Ludwig have something in common: insufferably obnoxious brothers. Alfred and Gilbert have something in common, too: they do NOT want their brothers together. Ludwig/Matthew?  Rewrite of, "Oh, Brothers."
1. In which the rivals meet

**Warning.** Gay. I say "fag."

**Disclaimer. **_Hetalia_ is by **no means** mine.

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><p><strong>In which the "rivals" meet.<strong>

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><p>Alfred was doing it again, and by <em>it<em>, Matthew of course meant _making an ass of himself in public_. Again. It was a common occurrence by now but still not one Matthew wanted to deal with (especially on such little sleep as he'd gotten the night before, and the night before that, and before that...) He sighed tiredly and buried his face into his pet polar bear's fur, trying to muffle the sounds of his brothers arguing over something as silly as national pride (when neither brother was actually from nor in the country they felt such pride for). A soft "who?" from the bear drew another tired sigh from Matthew but not his usual reply of, "I'm your owner, remember? Matthew." He was just too..._tired_.

He hadn't been feeling well lately. Maybe that was why he'd been so exhausted lately. It felt like a mental fatigue, honestly, but he'd just pegged it on his relatives (Alfred was a pretty high maintenance guy, Arthur's- what did Kiku call it? _Tsundere?_- personality could be very tiresome, and Francis... Well, he was just _Francis_). So far, out of his relatives, Francis had been the only one to actually notice Matthew's exhaustion. He'd asked if Matthew was feeling depressed, which Matthew of course denied. He wasn't depressed, was he? (Okay, maybe a little. Being so easily forgotten and ignored could get rather depressing on occasion). Francis had then offered _l'amour_ as a means of antidepressant, completely ignoring Matthew's protests. Francis had a black eye for a week from it, and Matthew still felt guilty for that.

Matthew was brought back to the moment at hand when Alfred stomped his way over to him and yanked him out of his seat by the back of his shirt, ignoring Matthew's flailing and protests of, "Al, can't breathe!" in favor of yelling at their elder brother (cousin, technically, for Matthew), Arthur over his shoulder. "Yeah, well, America is so much cooler than England, and you know it! It's a hero's country!" With that, he dragged Matthew out of the common room of their academy (although, one couldn't quite call it an academy; no one really ever _learned_ anything there, to be honest).

Matthew managed to squirm his way out of his brother's grasp and take a well deserved deep breath, rubbing his neck from where his shirt had chaffed it. His polar bear, Kumageeno (what was his name again? Maple) trailed after them, looking as annoyed as a normally blank-faced polar bear could at being dropped. "Al," Matthew sighed, bending down to pick Kumageeno up and cuddle him again, "was that really necessary?"

"Of course it was!" Alfred insisted, and he launched into a (repetitive) rant about how Arthur was a great, big ass and how, one day! One day he would see the error of his ways and realize that he, Alfred F. Jones, the _Hero!_ Was the better, more brilliant one, and that _America!_ Was the better nation. One day!

"That wasn't what I meant, eh..." Matthew sighed again (he'd meant nearly being choked to death while being dragged out of his seat. In retrospect, probably unnecessary. Probably).

Alfred, of course, didn't hear a word and continued his speech about Arthur's _Arthur_-ness, and Matthew resigned himself to listening, too tired to do much else but shuffle after his brother and barely manage to keep his eyes open. Both were so wrapped up in their own little world that they failed to notice the other set of similarly engaged brothers coming down the hall toward them.

Ludwig ran a tired hand over his face as his brother dragged him by the other hand down the hall toward the common room. Gilbert had left earlier after being thoroughly, verbally beaten by Roderich (and physically beaten by Elizaveta) for making a comment he was too awesome to remember now, and Ludwig had been forced to go after him. After cheering his brother up (by saying through clenched teeth that, _sure_, Gilbert was the most _awesome_ thing to ever grace God's green earth, _ever_, why not?), the albino decided it was time for some well deserved revenge. Ludwig was, again, forced to come along for the ride, and Gilbert began ranting as they went about how the awesome him was going to show that so totally unawesome Roderich who was boss. Ludwig merely grunted replies when appropriate to keep his brother occupied.

They crashed into each other, the two pairs.

Alfred and Gilbert collided in a colossal head butt that sent Gilbert sprawling onto the floor. Alfred, being the man of steel that he was, simply went "oof" and rubbed his forehead with a pout-y frown. Ludwig managed to rip his hand from his brother's grasp in time to keep his own balance and caught Matthew without even thinking about it, before the other could end up in a heap on the floor like the now whining albino. Matthew allowed it to happen, internally grateful that Ludwig provided a much softer landing than the tile (Kumageeno was less grateful, however, at being dropped again).

"That was so not awesome!" Gilbert cried, scrambling up from the floor and ignoring the totally not awesome tears gathering in his eyes. He was _not_ crying. Dust had gotten into his eyes from the fall, that was all. _Definitely._

Alfred stared blankly at the albino's face for a moment before leaning forward with an expression of utmost concentration. After several moments of almost awkward staring between the two of them, Alfred finally shook his head, leaned back again, and shrugged. "Yeah, who are you again?"

Gilbert sputtered indignantly. "Who am _I? Who am I! _I'm _Gilbert_ the _Awesome!"_

Alfred and Kuma-something-or-other (nobody could ever remember the bear's name) both asked, "Who?" Gilbert squawked (more at Kuma-what's-his-name; that bear should _ know him_, goddamnit, he fed that thing wurst a couple times before).

Matthew sighed and stayed leaning on Ludwig's chest, although he knew that he really should've moved back by then. It wasn't exactly polite, and Ludwig was sure to feel awkward when (if) he (ever) noticed; Matthew was too exhausted to quite care, either way, however. "He's Gilbert, Ludwig's brother."

Alfred blinked. "Seriously?" He looked from one German (_Prussian_, Gilbert would always stress. _He_ was _Prussian_) to the other and frowned once again. "They look nothing alike!"

Matthew thunked his forehead against the younger German's chest in mild frustration (Ludwig's chest was toned, he noticed, and then he told himself to stop listening to Francis quite so much) and sighed again."Gilbert's an albino."

"Obviously!" Gilbert snapped, glaring at the blond _asshole_. "I could have that Cuban guy for a brother, and nobody's be able to tell shit."

Alfred laughed. "Ha, sorry, my bad." He slapped Gilbert on the back, which knocked the guy back onto the floor. "See ya! Mattie and I have to go storm off angrily away from Arthur now. Then, I think we'll go get a burger. What'cha think, Mattie?"

"I-"

"It's decided! Burger time it is! You can stop being so insistent, Mattie, sheesh."

Matthew didn't even know why he bothered sometimes.

Ludwig, meanwhile, was confused. "Who is this..._Mattie?"_

Gilbert snorted and picked himself up off the floor again, dusting himself off and ignoring the (_not_) tears gathering in the corner of his eyes again. "The guy you're holding all fag like, Westen." (It was kind of hilarious to see, actually. _Westen_ holding _Matt_. Ha.)

Ludwig glanced down and was honestly shocked to see a mop of wavy (and incredibly soft looking) blond hair leaning against his chest. When did that get there? He didn't remember ever catching, let alone holding, anyone. The mop titled back to reveal blue-violent colored eyes underneath a pair of glasses and heavy bags. Even with the bags and exhausted expression, the eyes and face below that soft hair looked..._pretty_. Ludwig blushed to the roots of his slicked back hair at the thought and quickly stepped back, which caused Matthew to accidentally tip forward again. Ludwig once again saved him, and they both realized they weren't really getting anywhere.

Matthew sighed for the about thousandth-something time that day and finally stepped back, straightening his clothes. He couldn't stop a tired yawn and rubbed his eyes before saying, "Sorry, Ludwig. Didn't mean to lean on you for so long."

Ludwig was still wondering when on earth the other blond had started leaning on him _at all_. He didn't remember ever seeing him, only the obnoxious American. It was like the Canadian was _invisible_ or something...

Alfred pursed his lips as he watched the two interact. Something was off with Mattie. He didn't normally sigh that much, did he? And since when did he just _invade _peoples'_ personal space_ like that? That was against, like, everything Mattie stood for (and Alfred hated seeing Mattie hug or get hugged by other people. It was just wrong). Huh. Oh, well, burger time!

"Later, Ludwig, Ludwig's-brother-who's-name-I-don't-remember! Come on, Mattie, burgers!" And he grabbed his brother's hand once again to yank him down the hall.

At that same moment, Gilbert grabbed the front of his own brother's shirt to drag him down the hall toward the common room and the insufferable Austrian man he meant to chew out. "Come on, Westen, let's go kick that fag's ass!"

Matthew and Ludwig both groaned, glanced at each other over their shoulders, and very-nearly-but-not-quite-because-both-of-them-were-a-little-too-exhausted-and-awkward-for-that-sort-of-thing _smiled_ sympathetically to the other.

Oh, brothers...

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><p><strong>Author's Notes.<strong>

I wouldn't know, seeing as I'm an _only child _(technically).

This is the edited version of my series, "Oh, Brothers." I hope it's a little better but still has the same feel so it, y'know? Anyway, it's going to be Ludwig/Matthew, as far as I know, with Gilbert and Alfred being not at all pleased with it. The Italy twins are also together in this for some twincest, hope you don't mind |:

This started out non-AU, but then I realized I'd only ever used their human names instead of their nation names, so it became this weirdly pasted together academy AU (with no classes? Oi). Yes, Mattie has a pet polar bear. At school. You're reading Hetalia, you should be used to suspending belief by now.

(Spell check tried to change "Kumogeeno" to "plumage" and "homogenous.")

Thanks for reading!


	2. In which a lot of thinking is done

**Warning.** Do I curse? I think I curse. And it's still gay. Sorry.

**Disclaimer.** No.

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><p><strong>In which a lot of thinking is done.<strong>

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><p>Mattie was acting weird. Like, <em>weird<em>. Alfred didn't like it. Mattie was sighing _all the time_, always yawning, running into doors, mumbling (more than usual), not making any _sense! _Mattie was always the smart one, but he got a _B_ on his last test. A _B._ Mattie _never got a B._ Something had to be seriously wrong. Was he depressed or something? Francis had said something about Mattie acting depressed...

No brother of Alfred F. Jones would be depressed! No, sir! He was the _Hero_; it was his _job_ to make sure his family was well cared for! (And Mattie's glum attitude lately was really starting to freak Alfred out, but he couldn't say anything; Hero's weren't allowed to show what bothered them, right?)

So, he'd taken Mattie out to eat for lunch everyday (and did actually notice that Mattie wasn't really eating...) He'd asked to hang out, do homework together (_homework_, come on, Alfred never does his homework! But he was doing it. For _Mattie_), and he even sat through a game of Canadian hockey for him. That was devotion.

Yet, everyday, Mattie just seemed to be getting worse and worse. Nothing was working! Alfred didn't know what to do. He was even tempted to go ask Arthur for help, but no! The Hero never asks for help. Alfred could take care of Mattie just fine on his own! Right?

...Mattie would be fine, right?

He was sleeping in the common room, his head pillowed by his arms on the table he and Alfred were sharing. His pet polar bear thing was off destroying the vending machines in the hall. Were Mattie his normal self, he'd be holding his pet thing (what was its name?) tight enough that it wouldn't be able to get away (the last time it got away, it destroyed the kitchens. _Destroyed_. Utterly. It'd been bad). Nobody was noticing the polar bear, though. It, a lot like Mattie himself, could go around unnoticed most of the time (Alfred idly wondered what he'd have to do to be able to do that himself. It must be _awesome_). He had more pressing matters to worry about, though, than potential super powers and polar bears. He had his baby brother to worry about.

_What was wrong with Mattie?_

Alfred, putting his thinking face on and dusting the cobwebs out of his brain, gave the problem that was Mattie Is Not Being Normal some serious thought. He watched his brother sleep while the gears in his brain slowly got down to business. Maybe...maybe Mattie just wasn't getting enough sleep at night? That might be it. Lack of sleep would make him yawn and lose focus (and get a _B_ on a test), make him run into stuff and mumble (more than usual) like he'd been doing lately... Yeah. He just wasn't sleeping enough. (Take that, _Arthur_. Didn't need you at all).

But what (or _who,_ he thought with horror) could be keeping Mattie from sleeping?

Immediately, he thought of Francis, and he put his game face on. That pervert was probably trying to _feel his brother up at night_ (although, Francis and Mattie were actually cousins, but that's never stopped Francis before). He'd have to put a stop to it! Alfred stood up so suddenly that his chair toppled back and hit the floor with a loud clatter.

That woke up Matthew, who sleepily mumbled, "Al...?" He yawned rather cutely, and Alfred was momentarily distracted, ruffling his baby brother's hair. Matthew whined in protest and swatted his brother's hand away. "Al, cut it out. What's going on? Sounded like..." He broke to yawn and rubbed his eyes. "Like something crashed..."

Alfred took another moment to coo at his brother's sheer amount of _adorable_ before he struck a dramatic pose. Matthew let his head thunk back down onto the table, wondering why he'd even asked. Of course Alfred would make a big scene about it, of course. "I'm going to save you, Mattie!" Alfred proclaimed. "I know why you're so out of it!"

Still getting a face full of table top (and with a headache blooming behind his eyes now, maybe letting his head hit the table hadn't been such a good idea after all), Matthew asked skeptically, "You do?"

"Yes!" He cried and took a pause for added dramatic effect. "You're not getting any sleep at night, because!" He paused again to whip around and point accusingly at Francis, who was actually rather deep into a conversation with Antonio about the Italian twins (who everyone was pretty sure were sleeping together, but nobody honestly cared either way).

At Alfred's accusatory finger, Francis gave a lecherous grin and produced a rose out of thin air, winking. "_Oui_, Alfred?"

"You!" Alfred said darkly and shook his finger for even _more_ added dramatic effect (Hero's gotta be dramatic, after all, everyone knows that). "Have been molesting my brother at night!"

It was silent for a beat or two, then Arthur snorted into his tea. That broke the silence, and a few other people started laughing ("It's just that American guy being a douche again." "Wouldn't put it passed Francis, though, to sneak into someone's room at night.")

After Matthew broke out of his initial shock (and humiliation), he smacked his brother in the back of the head with a nearby binder. "No, you idiot!"

Francis smiled, amused, and handed Matthew the rose, which he grudgingly accepted with a blush. He was still quietly fuming at his brother's complete and utter lack of tact. "But," Francis said, "it's a nice idea, _non?_"

Arthur wondered to himself if it was possible for one to faint from too much blood rushing to one's face; Matthew certainly looked like he could. He then sipped his tea and tuned out Alfred's whining and whimpering (annoying _git_) and waited for the exact right moment to throw the rest of his cup onto Francis as he passed by (simply, he told himself, as a you-better-not-actually-be-messing-with-my-brother-and-or-cousin-I-don't-honestly-know-how-we're-related, but it was really more of a mess-with-me-instead-here-look-I'm-even-provoking-you). It started an argument between the two that Arthur was very (_very_) unwilling to admit he (really) enjoyed.

Alfred dropped back down into his seat and rubbed the back of his head, whining and pouting. "Mattie, why'd you hit me?" The glare Mattie sent his way made him clam up, because no matter how adorable Mattie may look on a day-to-day basis, when he gets mad..._he gets mad_. Alfred swallowed nervously and looked down to the rose Mattie was holding gently. He gave the rose a glare instead and asked, "You'd tell me if he was, right?"

Mattie sighed and set the rose on the table, tiredly rubbing his eyes. "Yes, Alfred, I would. Don't worry."

Alfred beamed (see? I'm Mattie's _Hero_), then went back to wondering what (_or who_) on Earth could be keeping Mattie up at night... If it wasn't Francis... Alfred blanched. Did Mattie have a _lover?_

He opened his mouth to ask, but Mattie cut him off before he could even get the words out. "I'm not seeing anyone, either, Alfred, so don't ask."

He closed his mouth again, and he really put those thinking gears to work. Really, this was the most thought he'd put into any one thing since, well..._ever_. The polar bear thing (seriously, what was its name?) caught his eye and distracted him as it nosed its way through the mill of students, pausing here and there to snatch something edible out of some mindless victim's pocket.

Matthew finally noticed he was absent one polar bear and jumped up, crying, "Kumakichi!" He hurried over to his bear and picked it up, cuddling it to his chest and scolding it all the way back to his seat. He held the bear tightly in his arms and slouched down into his chair with a sigh. "You wear me out, Kuma..."

The bear simply munched on a stolen chocolate chip cookie (getting crumbs _everywhere_, darn it...) and asked, "Who are you?"

Matthew sighed. "Never mind..."

Alfred watched them blankly for another moment or two before he snapped his fingers and exclaimed, "That's it!"

Matthew couldn't hold in a tired groan. "Oh, what now?"

He didn't get an answer; Alfred just raced out of the room. He chose to ignore his brother in favor of nuzzling his face into Kumakichi's fur, but his head snapped back up when he heard a rather high-pitched yelp and a, "Sorry, what's-your-name!"

Gilbert picked himself up off the floor again, scowling, and Matthew sighed, dropping his face back into Kumakichi's fur. Alfred had run into his friend again. Matthew couldn't honestly say he was surprised.

"I hate that guy!" Gilbert snarled, wiping the (totally not actually there) tears out of his eyes. Several people in the room voiced their agreements, and Matthew tried to smother himself in his pet's fur. He couldn't say he was surprised when Gilbert threw himself into the seat next to him, either. "Hey, Matt."

Matthew mumbled something nobody quite caught, too muffled by polar bear fur.

Ludwig sat down across from Matthew (on _purpose_, because he knew the other was there). "Hello, ah, Matthew?" He said, trying to be polite (but coming across as awkward. Matthew didn't notice, as he was too tired and too surprised that Ludwig had actually remembered him).

Matthew lifted his face from his bear to give a pleased but exhausted smile to the other and said, "Hello, Ludwig. How are you?"

"I'm fine, thank you." There was a pause, and Ludwig awkwardly cleared his throat. "Pardon me for asking, but are you...feeling well, Matthew?"

"Hm?" He blinked. "Oh, well... I'm a little-"

Gilbert, who had been ranting to himself (well, he thought he had an audience) about that stupid, _stupid_, completely _unawesome_ American, stopped when he realized that no one was listening to him. Normally, that wouldn't have been a big deal, he'd just keep talking. Only, this time, no one was listening to him because they were _talking to each other instead_. Matt and Westen. Were _talking_. To each other.

That was not supposed to happen.

He interrupted Matthew (who'd been about to say, "I'm a little tired, to be honest,") by loudly asking, "Who wants pancakes?"

Matthew sighed. "I'm not making you any, Gilbert."

That was better. Matt was his (loosely termed) friend; he should be paying attention to _him_, not to Westen! "Oh, come on, Matt! Westen makes shitty pancakes, and I want some!"

"_Bruder_," Ludwig said calmly, although Gilbert could recognize the edge of I-am-not-pleased in his voice. "If you'd like some, go make them yourself."

"But-" Gilbert started to whine, but he was cut off by Alfred bursting back into the room.

He raced over to their table (man had a stride like a gazelle) and asked in a rush, "Hey-can-I-borrow-Kuma-whatever-his-name-is?"

Matthew blinked and shrugged, "Uh, sure, but why-"

"Thanks!" And Alfred was gone again, and Matthew was once again absent a Kumakichi.

"_Hate_ that guy," Gilbert muttered under his breath. No one was listening to him again, though. His brother and Matt had apparently begun another conversation, this time about Kumajirou (his name wasn't _that_ hard to remember, geez).

Gilbert's eye noticeably twitched, but no one paid him or his tics any mind. His brain kicked into over drive as he thought this utterly bizarre and _wrong_ development over. Westen and Matthew. Talking. Looking like they were _enjoying_ talking to each other. It wasn't like they hadn't spoken before; Westen just never really remembered who he'd been talking to or exactly what about. Yet, there he was, apparently completely aware that he was talking to Matthew (goddamn) Williams and that they were discussing how exactly Matt had been allowed to have a pet polar bear in the academy.

_Why were they talking?_

Gilbert was so much more awesome than Matt and Westen _combined_; they should be talking to him, not each other!

He didn't realize just how tightly he'd been holding onto the table edge until he heard Matt timidly say, "Ah, Gil, I think you're breaking the table."

He abruptly stood up and pasted on an insane grin (or, as some would call it, his face) that had Matthew leaning away and Ludwig groaning quietly to himself. "I'm gonna go bother Roderich, Westen, don't miss me too much!" (Which can be translated to, "I'm going to whine to Roderich and, by association, Elizaveta about how you two are suddenly being buddy-buddy, and I hope I come back with all of my limbs. Please miss me!") With that, he stormed out of the room, being sure to make as much noise as possible.

There was another beat or two of silence, which Ludwig broke by saying, "I'll never understand my brother."

Matthew sighed but couldn't help agreeing. "And I'll never understand mine."

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><p><strong>Author's Notes.<strong>

Like I said, I hope this is still carrying the same feel as _Oh, Brothers._ Hope you guys still like it D:

(Spell check wanted to change "Kumakichi" to "matchmaking.")

Thanks for reading!


	3. In which Matthew is unwell

**Warning.** Gay. There may be cursing, but I can't really remember.

**Disclaimer. **_Hetalia_ is _totes_ mine, didn't you know? |:

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><p><strong>In which Matthew is unwell.<strong>

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><p>When Alfred had raced off the day before with Ku-...his bear, Matthew had been a little concerned. When Alfred didn't return his bear at any point between the racing off and <em>right then<em>, Matthew was definitely more than concerned. He was well prepared to _punch his brother in the mouth_ if he'd done something awful to his bear. He just had to _find_ the darn thing first.

"Kuda?" Matthew called, wandering the halls of the dorms. He was pretty sure he'd find Ku-something in Alfred's room, but just in case... "Kula?" He tried again. No, that didn't sound right... Oh, darn it, he could never remember the thing's name! Ku-whatever was just lucky he was so adorable... "Kuma?"

"Who?" He heard from the dorm room he passed. Matthew stopped and frowned at the door. Alfred's door. He _knew it_.

"...Kuma?" He tried again. That was the one that had worked, right?

"Who?" Ah, yes, there it was.

Matthew tried the knob to 7-4 and found it to be unlocked, and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course Alfred wouldn't lock his own door. Probably thought no one would dare break into a _Hero's_ room. He wandered in and made a face at the clothes mountains and old fast food wrappers, empty soda cups, take out bags...

"God, Al, you'll never change," Matthew muttered under his breath, eying the F-22 posters, the pin up model calender, American flag bed spread... "That's just obnoxious..." He shook his head, then got back down to business. "Kuma?" He called. His bear was nowhere to be seen, but he'd heard it in here somewhere...

There was a scratching sound coming from behind the closet door, barricaded by a clothes mountain, and a pitifully whined, "who?" floated out.

"Kuma!" Matthew cried and frantically dug through the mountain until he reached the door, managing to wrench it open. His bear peered through the dark at him, blinking and sniffing. "Oh, Kuma, Al locked you in here, didn't he?" Matthew sighed running a tired, shaking hand through his hair and picked his bear up (with some difficulty. Was Kuma always that heavy?), cuddling it to his chest.

He flicked the closet light on to see if Al had at least _tried_ to take proper care of his bear. The closet had been emptied out (thus the sheer volume of clothes mountains) and in one corner was a litter box. The floor was lined with newspaper, and two empty bowls were against one wall. Matthew groaned. "Really, Al? I'm going to have to have a _very_ stern talk with him," he muttered to himself.

"Who?" Kuma murmured sleepily, snuggling into Matthew's chest and quickly falling asleep. He snuggled in closer when a hand gently carded through his fur.

Matthew sighed. "I guess that can wait... Let's go back to our room, Kuma," he said with a soft smile, kicking aside clothes and shoes and wrappers (and God knows what else) to get to the door, stumbling every now and again but thinking nothing of it. He quietly shut the door behind him once he got back into the hall and reminded himself to tell house keeping about Al's room. It was a fire hazard!

Once he'd taken a few steps toward his room, his knees gave out, and Matthew hit the floor with a yelp. He dropped Kuma, who growled quietly at having been woken up so harshly, but that growl quickly turned to distressed whining as Matthew tried to stand back up on shaking legs.

"This isn't good, eh?" He laughed quietly. Sure, he'd noticed his hands had been shaking and that it was a little harder to pick up and hold Kuma than normal, but... He brought a hand to his forehead. He didn't feel warm... He was actually feeling kind of cold. Could someone actually gauge their own temperature? He swallowed thickly, feeling himself sway as he finally got to standing. He stumbled back, feeling a sense of vertigo, and didn't realize he was tilting until he'd already thumped into something.

Strong arms came around him and steadied him, and he thought he heard a voice asking, "Matthew? Matthew, are you alright?"

"M'fine," he slurred, feebly struggling out of the strong arms. He didn't make it far; he blacked out, the last thing he remembered being someone crying, "Matthew!"

Oh, maple.

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><p>For a moment, Ludwig had no idea what to do. There he was, holding an unconscious Matthew Williams, while his pet polar bear (he was still curious about that) kept up a constant, distressed whine. He took a deep breath and carefully picked Matthew up, holding him gently, almost cradling him really. Even as dead weight, the boy didn't seem to weigh much, and even with the feverish flush Ludwig could see on his cheeks, the labored breathing... Matthew looked kind of...<em>pretty<em>. Like a damsel.

...wait, no! That was wrong, that was very, very wrong! Not only was it improper to call another man _pretty_, but likening him to a damsel of all things was just insulting to Matthew himself!

Ludwig quickly shook his head and straightened up, (literally) marching to the infirmary with Matthew in his arms. He could hear Kuma's whine following them but didn't bother to look down and check if the bear was still with them. He just focused on getting to the infirmary as quickly as possible.

Once there, he let the nurses on staff take Matthew and check him over, do what they needed to do to ensure his health. Ludwig stood awkwardly in one corner, uncertain as to whether he should stay or go... He was concerned for the other, he could admit that. He supposed, if it wasn't any trouble to the staff, that he could stay long enough to know that Matthew would be alright...

He opened his mouth to politely ask if he could stay, and a nurse cut him off, asking him, "Are you a friend of his?"

He straightened up again, ROTC training kicking in. "Yes, ma'am, I am." Was he? (Yes.)

The nurse looked fondly amused at his stiff posture and told him, "You can sit out front. We'll come get you when we're through, alright?"

He nodded once and marched back out to the waiting area. He took a seat and was stiff for another moment or two before he slowly started to relax. Matthew would be alright. He probably had the flu or was fatigued. He _had_ looked rather under the weather when they'd spoken yesterday...

He hoped Matthew would be alright. The boy seemed very nice, very _normal_, and Ludwig was actually hoping that they _could_ become friends. He'd like to have at least _someone_ sane to call a friend...

It was decided. Once the nurses came to get him, he'd wait with Matthew. Yes, that's what he'd do.

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><p>Oh, maple...<p>

Matthew blinked his eyes open, wincing at the bright lights and his blurry vision. Where were his glasses? He groaned quietly, bringing a hand to his aching head. At least it was a dull ache, nothing terrible... He tried to sit up, but a hand gently pushed him back down. He quickly looked to see who it was, squinting to get his eyes to focus, and blushed. "Ah, Ludwig? Hello. Um, where-?"

"You fainted, Matthew," (Matthew tried to ignore how pleased Ludwig remembering his name made him) Ludwig told him. "I brought you to the infirmary."

"Oh." Fainted? That made sense. "How long was I...?"

"For about half an hour," Ludwig answered. His hands were moving, and Matthew squinted to see what he was doing. "Oh, excuse me. Here." He gently eased Matthew's glasses on, and Matthew blinked as his eyes focused. Ludwig was...petting Kuma?

Matthew couldn't help it. He laughed. Ludwig's face flushed a deep red all the way to his hair, and Matthew was sure he could see it dipping into his collar. He quickly stifled his giggles and said, "So-sorry, it's just... You look so intimidating, but here you are, petting Kumayuro. It's kind of..._adorable_, actually."

That didn't help the blush at all. Ludwig awkwardly cleared his throat and set Kuma(yuro?) on Matthew's bed. Kuma toddled over to his owner's lap and plopped down, expecting the petting to resume. Matthew happily obliged. "I have to go now, Matthew. I just...wanted to make sure that you were okay. The nurses said that you had caught a mild virus coupled with fatigue. With some medicine and good rest, you should be fine." He paused after standing and glanced at Matthew, his flush returning to paint his cheeks pink. "...take care of yourself."

Matthew smiled. "Thanks, Ludwig, I'll try. Before you go, could you let one of the nurses know I've woken up?" Ludwig nodded stiffly and marched out, much to Matthew's amusement.

After the nurses had come in and checked him over again, Matthew settled back down against the pillows and continued to pet Kumayuro.

"He's a nice guy," he murmured. "I like Ludwig. Think he and I could be friends, Kuma?"

"Who?"

"Never mind..."

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><p><strong>Author's Notes.<strong>

Don't worry, Alfred and Gilbert will find out about this (catastrophic) bonding in the next chapter. I'm just switching things around a bit.

Thanks for reading!


	4. In which the brothers are obnoxious

**Warning. **Gay, and a lot of cursing. _A lot._

**Disclaimer. **_Hetalia_ isn't mine. Cool? Cool.

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><p><strong>In which the brothers are obnoxious.<strong>

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><p>Matthew was meant to stay under surveillance for at least a day, to make sure he was on the road to full recovery and wouldn't have another fainting spell. He didn't exactly mind staying in the infirmary bed. It was quiet, not uncomfortable, and he had some nice, relaxing time to himself. What wasn't to like about that?<p>

"Mattie! Your Hero's here!"

Oh, right. Alfred could come in and bother him, and Matthew couldn't actually _leave_. Unless, of course, Alfred made enough of an ass out of himself that he got thrown out (probable), Matthew had to either call a nurse in and throw his brother out himself (which, as much as he wanted to, he'd _never_ do) or sit through it. Matthew being _Matthew_, he chose to sit through it.

Alfred came bursting into Matthew's room and threw himself at his brother, nearly picking him up out of the bed in a crushing bear hug. "Mattie-don't-ever-scare-me-like-that-again!" He nearly sobbed, forcefully rubbing his head against his brother's.

Matthew tried his best to shove his brother off, but the man really was made of steel, and so he only just barely managed to get enough room to breathe. "Al, I'm fine, eh!" He tried to say, but with all the hugging and the nuzzling and Kumatino growling from where he'd been shoved to the floor, Matthew only got out, "Al-m'fineh," which didn't make much sense.

Thankfully (sort of?), Kumatino had grown to dislike Alfred lately, pinning all of his "rude awakenings" on his owner's brother (plus, there was that whole "closet-kidnapping" affair), so when Alfred ignored his growling in favor of continuing to smother Matthew in hugs and kisses (much to Matthew's embarrassment), Kumatino bit him. On the butt.

Alfred let out a shriek to rival a horror movie victim and jumped up onto the bed, trying to burrow into Matthew's lap. "It bit me! Your stupid bear bit me!"

Matthew managed to shove his brother back onto the floor, who landed with a gigantic thud and a whine, and said, "You locked him in your closet! In the dark! The hell, eh?"

After picking himself up and finally sitting properly in a chair, Alfred actually had the decency to look ashamed. He fiddled with his hands and stared holes into the floor, biting his lip and hoping Matthew wouldn't turn his passive-aggressive rage on to full blast, because that was _terrifying_. "I heard you say that Kuma-whatever-his-name-is was wearing you out, so...I was just trying to help!" He whined.

"...oh, maple." Matthew sighed, thoroughly guilt-tripped into no longer being annoyed. "Thanks, Al, but Kumatino's not why I haven't been sleeping."

Alfred's head snapped up. "You're not mad?" He asked, voice bordering on perversely excited

"No, Al," Matthew sighed again. "I'm not mad."

Alfred whooped and pulled his brother into another hug. He had enough sense not to crush his brother this time, though, and Matthew actually hugged back (much to Alfred's added glee). After a moment or two of comfortable silence (although it was awkwardly long for a brotherly hug, one can admit), Alfred broke the mood by asking, "...you're not seeing that German guy, are you?"

Matthew sputtered and pulled back, cheeks tinged back. "German guy? You mean Ludwig?"

Alfred gasped loudly, eyes wide. "You _**are**__, aren't you_?" No! Mattie couldn't be seeing anyone! Especially not someone that, that..._large!_ And _male! _And, and..._German!_ (Not that there was anything wrong with Germans; they, like the rest of the world, just couldn't date his brother).

"No, Alfred!" Matthew snapped. Oh, shit. He had said _Alfred_. He _never_ says Alfred, unless shit's about to get real.

Alfred swallowed nervously and inched his chair backward as much as it could quietly go, wincing at the obnoxious _scree_ it made when it could no longer go quietly. "S-so, you guys are just friends?"

"Yes. We're _just_ friends, Al. Why are you asking?"

"...'cause I saw him leave here." Which was _fucking suspicious_, if you asked him. A horrid idea suddenly popped into Alfred's head, and he gasped loudly again. "He didn't hurt you, did he? Is he why you're in here?" He cried, voice far too high (not that he'd ever admit to it) and far too loud.

"_What?_ No!" Matthew shook his head, running a tired hand through his hair.

"Then-" Alfred was interrupted by someone clearing their throat sharply, and Alfred tensed while Matthew groaned quietly, slowly turning around to see a clearly annoyed nurse standing behind him.

"I'm afraid, Mr. Jones, that I'm going to have to ask you to leave. You're bothering some of the other patients," she said.

"Other patients? Geez, how many people are in here?" Alfred asked, completely ignoring that he was being obnoxious enough that he was _actually_ being kicked out (just like Matthew knew he would).

"_Mr. Jones_," the nurse snapped.

"I'm sorry about him," Matthew said quickly, before Alfred could say something else stupid. "He's just going now, _right, Alfred?"_

Alfred swallowed nervously again. There was that passive-aggressive rage he was so scared of. "Ri-right, Mattie. I'll, uh, see-you-later!" He rushed out, trying to put as much distance between him and Matthew's sob inducing rage as he possibly could.

That German guy, though... He'd seen him leaving Mattie's room when he'd come rushing to his brother's side like the Hero he was. When he'd asked the nurse, she'd said that he'd stayed with Mattie until he'd woken up.

_It's gotta be him_, Alfred thought. He's gotta be the reason why Mattie hadn't been sleeping at night! He probably did something horrible to Mattie, and that's why he had to go to the nurse!

That was it. That guy was going _down_.

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><p>Where the tits was Westen?<p>

Gilbert grumbled under his breath, stomping through the halls and telling anyone who shot him a dirty look to piss right the fuck off. He had to find his brother! He had important shit to ramble about, damn it, and Westen was the only one who would ever listen (besides Matt, but he never really gave the kid a choice). He wasn't in his dorm room, the commons, the weight room, the Italian brat's room, the kitchens, or anywhere else, not even outside!

Where _the fuck_ was he?

When he finally found his brother (who shouldn't be able to disappear like that, I mean, he was built like a goddamn mountain for fuck's sake), he was leaving the infirmary. Gilbert's heart didn't stop, no, and he didn't pale or start to freak out or-

_"Westen, what the fuck happened?"_

That was _not_ concern.

Ludwig sighed and pushed his now very flail-y brother off. "I'm not hurt, Gilbert, I'm fine. Honestly."

Gilbert was circling around him then, eying him, just to make sure, and when he had decided for himself that,_ yes_, Westen honestly was fine, he grinned and smacked his brother on the ass. The resulting yelp and deep red flush on Westen's face was_ awesome_. "Cool, then why were you in the nurse's, huh? Break some kid's nose again?"

Ludwig rubbed his backside and grumbled something about that being an accident, pleas stop bringing it up, and was cut off by a brown and blue blur barreling passed, shouting something about, "Mattie, your Hero's coming!"

Both brothers blinked and stared after the swinging infirmary door. It was silent for a moment, then Gilbert snorted. "You put Matt in the hospital?"

Ludwig sputtered. "No!" He flushed all the way to the roots of his hair again and grumbled under his breath before he shook his head and straightened up. "I caught Matthew in a fainting spell and carried him to the infirmary."

Gilbert snorted again. "Matt _fainted?_ He's such a girl..." Then, it hit him. "_You remember Matt?_"

Ludwig blinked, Gilbert's hands suddenly balled up in the front of his shirt. He gently set his brother back down, who looked far too wild-eyed for his taste. "Yes, I do. Why is that so surprising?" It wasn't like it was hard to remember Matthew's name. He was pre- _interesting_ (not pretty, Ludwig, remember? You don't call boy's pretty. Feliciano being cute was an exception, but he was _the only one_, okay?)

Gilbert took a few deep breaths. Nobody remembers Matt. His own fucking _family_ forgets about him half the time, especially that British bastard. He forgot him all the time, and his asshole brother only remembers him on occasion. Francis remembers him because Francis remembers everybody (and their, ahem, _assets_). That Cuban dude remembers him only half the time; the other half, he's busy mistaking him for his asshole brother and trying to beat him up. The only other people to really remember him were fucking Ivan, Ivan's big breasted sister, and that one dude who was high all the damn time, but Ivan was a creepy fucking bastard who probably stalked the whole world, so that was no surprise. His sister had some sort of school girl crush on Matt, and the high dude...well, Gilbert didn't know why he remembered Matt, actually. And Gilbert, being his _awesome_ self, remembered Matt, of course! (He told himself it was for his kick ass pancakes; really, it was because people were starting to ignore him, too.)

Why was Westen suddenly remembering Matt? Were they really _that_ buddy-buddy already, for Westen to _carry Matt to the infirmary?_ Knowing Westen, he probably sat with him, too! _Bullshit._

Why, _why_, _**why**_? Maybe... Maybe Westen liked Matt? He did seem to have a thing for the cute, clumsy type, like that Italian kid, what's his name? Feliciano? Not his brother, though, the one that cursed all the time. Fuck, what was his name? Whatever. Regardless, Ludwig liked cute boys. Matt was cute. Therefore, Ludwig liked Matt.

...oh, _fuck no!_

Ludwig was slowly backing up from his quietly cackling brother when the nurse snapped at them to leave, because some people need to have their rest! (Oh, but thank you for being such a sweetie and sitting with him, Ludwig, just please take your brother back to the psych ward.) The blue and brown blur was seen again almost immediately afterward, but it thankfully didn't run into them that time.

"Hey, Westen, I'm going to go talk to Francis. Go do whatever it is Westens do in their spare time, yeah?" And then Gilbert was a white and blue blur. Ludwig blinked.

Something told him this would not end well.

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><p><strong>Author's Notes.<strong>

I like writing as Gil. He's so much fun.

Maximo Park has been proving to be the perfect band to listen to while writing this. "Our Velocity" reminds me of both Gilbert and Alfred, although a bit more Alfred than Gilbert, I think. I buy books/I never read/then I tell you some more about/me! Anybody?

Like I said, switching things up a little. Good, bad, same as before?


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